


crazy he calls me

by bleakmidwinter



Category: Rope (1948)
Genre: 1940s Gayness, Asphyxiation, Character Study, Choking, Gay, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Referenced murder, They're so gay guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 08:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16260626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleakmidwinter/pseuds/bleakmidwinter
Summary: brandon and phillip are never caught by rupert, and they go on their vacation they were planning where brandon learns a surprising revelation about phillip's experience during the murder.





	crazy he calls me

**Author's Note:**

> title from the billie holiday's "crazy he calls me"

When Brandon had suggested a vacation after such a troublesome event, Phillip hadn't thought much on the matter. Yes, he thought it would be nice to get away, but he had no idea it would be a  _ pay-back _ vacation. A way for Brandon to thank Phillip for going through with everything, as if Phillip would ever decline a request from that insatiable, and overwhelmingly charming, man. 

 

Even if he wanted to decline, Phillip would  _ always _ say yes.

 

And how could he decline after they’d disposed of the body and Brandon had pulled him into a tight hug, arms coiled around him protectively, almost lovingly, and whispered, “I’ll take you anywhere you want my dear boy. Just name it.”

 

He’d opted for a small getaway in a beach town just outside of their city, and they’d stayed there for a long time, letting the murder sink deeper into their souls, and cleansing themselves of the anxieties of police questioning for as long as they could. 

 

* * *

 

 

Brandon bobs his head vigorously between Phillip's legs, tugging sharply with two fingers at the base of his dick where his mouth isn't reaching. His other hand is trailing up and down the soft expanse of Phillip’s chest, grazing over his rib cage, and Phillip arches with it. 

 

Phillip's legs are curled tightly around Brandon's shoulders, crushing the sides of his face and his neck, and he's gasping frantically in an attempt to form words.

 

He’s getting distracted by the one strand of hair from Brandon’s usually perfectly gelled and styled hair, bouncing with each movement, and curling against the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

 

Brandon digs both of his hands into the meaty flesh of his thighs then, and Phillip lets out a rather unflattering noise and his mouth hangs open. 

 

“If you keep,  _ oh _ , I'm going to-” Brandon cuts Phillip off by swallowing the head of his cock between the tight hold of his  _ stupid, _ fucking, gorgeous lips, then bobbing down once more.

 

When Brandon gets passionate about something, he goes full force. Whether it be theft, sex, or murder. Phillip should run screaming, but instead he's screaming into a hotel pillow and spilling down the throat of the man who sets his nerves on fire inexorably.

 

It takes several minutes for him to gather his senses into something coherent, and by that time Brandon is curled up on his side, leg draped over Phillip's and he's biting at his cheek playfully, ever the charmer. 

 

Phillip can feel Brandon's spent cock on his leg and assumes he got off while sucking him. Somehow he finds that arousing and extremely satisfying, to know Brandon got so worked up over  _ his _ cock that he didn't even have to touch himself to come. When he’s feeling self conscious in their relationship, he can at least remember that much. 

 

Phillip leans in to kiss Brandon who smiles, empty but considerate. Brandon was never one for kisses, but he humors Phillip most of the time. 

 

“Your enthusiasm astounds me,” Phillip whispers hoarsely. 

 

“You seem to love that word.” Brandon smirks in a familiar way. “I do recall you telling me you find everything I do to be  _ astounding _ .”

 

“Did I say  _ everything?  _ I'm sure there's something you do that I hate.”

 

Brandon laughs out loud and hops up, nearly hysterically, tugging up his pants. “I'm delighted to see you've lightened up about,” he pauses doubtfully, “ _ all of it _ , that is.”

 

Phillip's eyes trail down to where Brandon is buttoning and zipping up his pants. “This vacation has been a much needed disconnect from the reality of what we did.”

 

“Was it _ that _ bad for you?” Brandon questions, and Phillip has to wonder if it's a rhetorical question. He answers it anyway. He doesn't find any pleasure in seeing Brandon's face contorted to resemble despondency. It doesn't suit him. Confidence suits him. 

 

“It wasn't bad. The act itself didn't make me uneasy, but,” Phillip swallows, “we were so close to getting caught. That’s what truly set my teeth on edge, I suppose.” 

 

While Phillip is wriggling into his own trousers, Brandon dips back onto the bed and stares directly at Phillip. He does this often, and Phillip doesn’t enjoy being scrutinized directly after sex. There’s too much sweat and heavy breathing for it to be comfortable or inviting. He turns to face him anyway.

  
“What is it?”

 

“You said the act didn’t make you uneasy.” 

 

“So?” Phillip knows where this is going, and, without waiting for a response, he stands up and glides into their bathroom to wash his hands and face. He hears the soft noise of Brandon clambering after him, and turns to see him leaning against the door frame, almost trapping Phillip in the confined space.

 

“Then how  _ did _ you feel?” 

 

“ _ Must  _ you know, Brandon?”

 

Brandon smiles innocently, as innocently as he can muster anyhow. That man has not known an innocent day in his life. It’s another facade that Phillip finds himself idiotically attracted to. He laughs and shifts to take up more space in the doorway when Phillip moves to push past him.

  
“I’m just curious as to why you’re resisting the question.”

 

“I’m not resisting.” 

 

Brandon leans in close, and Phillip can smell the slight tang of alcohol coming from his breath. “I know you, Phillip. I’m as sharp as a fox on the prowl, nothing gets past me. Tell me what has you so unnecessarily bothered or I might have to force it out of you.”

 

“I  _ liked _ it, Brandon, okay?!” Phillip nearly shouts. Brandon blinks, once, twice, then his eyes widen a fraction: this is a feat for him in and of itself. Brandon almost resembles something human when he’s surprised. “Are you happy?” 

 

He's caught Brandon off guard enough to finally push past him and grab his shirt from the floor. He can feel Brandon slowly turning on his heel and leering closer behind as he buttons up his shirt.

 

“I was under the impression you despised the act,” Brandon says, his tone almost  _ weak _ .

 

Phillip's lip twitches into a small smirk, and he bends to grab his tie. Without facing Brandon he tosses his tie around his neck and fumbles around with it. 

 

“You were under the wrong impression.”

 

“So you felt it too?” Brandon says in a quick hush, close enough now that Phillip can feel his breath on his neck. “When David went limp, that feeling, it was…”

 

“Extraordinary?” Phillip responds, dropping his unmade tie so it hangs loose from his neck. “Liberating?” He turns and their noses are practically touching. Brandon's eyes are ablaze, pupils wide as saucers. Phillip smiles, confidence ruling out his other conflicting emotions for once. “Sensual?” 

 

Brandon swallows, and he reaches up with shaky hands to fix Phillip's tie. “Y-yes. All of those” 

 

Phillip gives a toothy grin. “I must say I enjoy seeing you excited.”

 

Brandon blinks a few times and tilts his chin up slightly. “It's only natural. Us, the superior beings of this world should feel a certain amount of jubilance when eradicating the world of inferiors, wouldn't you say so?”

 

“I suppose I would,” Phillip replies. He leans forward and kisses Brandon, chaste. Brandon can't control the slight pink that rises to his cheeks or his raw surprise. There it is. That's exactly why he despises kisses,  _ especially _ , surprise ones.

 

Brandon finishes adjusting Phillip's tie and clears his throat before quickly putting his own on. “We go back tomorrow, Phillip. Have you been anticipating it?”

 

“They must know by now. That David's missing,” Phillip says blankly. He takes out a cigarette and Brandon quickly takes out his lighter to light it for him. Brandon nods.

 

“Yes, I'd assume.”

 

Phillip breathes out a puff of blinding smoke. “Janet must be a mess.”

 

Brandon huffs, a dry laugh he uses to hide the sentiment he feels underneath. 

 

“I always felt she'd be better off with Kenneth. He's a better, more well-rounded man, wouldn't you say? Surely not superior in anyway in our society, but not someone I would think first about getting rid of. She'll be okay.” 

 

“You sound sure of yourself.”

 

“As I am always, Phillip,” Brandon says and lights his own cigarette. 

 

“I don't know how well I'm going to hold up if she talks to us about David, Brandon, I--” 

 

“You'll hold up. You have to, Phillip. You always have. Ever since prep school, you've lied with me.”

 

Phillip glares at Brandon who smirks devilishly. “In more ways than one.” 

 

This breaks Phillip and he smiles again. Brandon winks and lets his cigarette hang from his lips as he picks up his suitcase and sets it on the bed. “Let's start packing up. It'll be a long drive tomorrow.” 

  
  


* * *

 

 

On their way back, they scarcely say a word, but every so often Brandon will reach one hand over from the wheel and lay it atop Phillip's who will curl their fingers together and, until the next turn, they remain in a content statuesque state. 

 

When night is beginning to fall and they are close to home, Phillip opens his mouth to speak, but words don’t follow. Brandon glances between him and the road.

 

“Something wrong, Phillip?”

 

“Did we choose David because of what he did to us in prep school, Brandon? Or because he was an inferior. Be honest.”

 

Brandon is silent for a few seconds and Phillip doesn't take his eyes off the empty road ahead of them. 

 

“In a way, the way he treated us in prep school, sculpted his inferiority.”

 

“So all bullies are inferior?” Phillip asks.

 

“All  _ bigots _ ,” Brandon replies. “All bigots are bullies, but not all bullies are bigots. Take Kenneth for example, he'd tie our shoelaces together but he'd never say anything close to what David used to say to us. Ignorance only reaches the lower members of society. All the more reason to get rid of them, if I do say so myself. And all the more room for more open-minded, self assured individuals, eh, Phillip?”

 

Phillip stares out the window of the car, watching the last few trees rush by before heading into the heart of the city.

 

“Phillip, are you alright?” Brandon asks more urgently. 

 

“I'm glad he's dead,” Phillip whispers, hands balling into fists.

 

Brandon's coy smile twists into a grin. “Me too.” 

  
  


* * *

 

 

It's midnight when they reach their apartment, and after two glasses each of celebratory wine, Phillip ends up straddling Brandon on their bed and frantically riding out the leftover restless energy he’s been harboring from the past few weeks, his hands coiled around Brandon's throat the whole time, only  _ just _ tight enough, the way they both like it. 

 

They sleep soundly after that, Phillip slumped over Brandon, in sync with his breathing patterns.

 

They do not receive a call in the morning, and they go about their daily business. Brandon leaves for his job before Phillip wakes up, and he leaves him a note on the chest in their living room.

 

_ See you this evening.  _

 

__        -BS _ _

 

 

Phillip takes the note and crumbles it up, making his way into the kitchen to throw it out.  His gaze returns to the chest.

 

They’d done it.

 

They’d truly done it. Gotten away with it, and it had been perfect.

There is a small upturn to Phillip’s lips as he pours himself a glass of wine. And cracks his knuckles before his piano keys. 

**Author's Note:**

> this story was very pointless but i decided to finish and post it because i love these two, and i love my friends who love the rope, so here ya go.


End file.
